


Love Can Make You Bleed

by tommysinful



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cutting, M/M, Oblivious Zayn, Pining Liam, Recreational Drug Use, Sad Liam, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommysinful/pseuds/tommysinful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam has a problem with his sexuality, the boy he's in love with and also cutting himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Can Make You Bleed

How he had gotten to this point was an absolute mystery. He was rich, famous, had millions of fans and four of the best friends anyone could ask for. So why was he sitting in his hotel bathroom with a bloodied razor in one hand and angry red seeping lines on his wrist?

Because he was scared. That’s why Liam was doing this. He was absolutely terrified, not only of his thoughts, but also of other people’s thoughts about him.

The thing is that Liam had finally come to the conclusion he was gay.

It took a lot of soul searching and failed relationships to realize that he didn’t want soft curves and breasts and shaved legs. No, he wanted hard muscle and stubble and cock. That’s what he would think about when he was plowing some nameless fan that all but threw herself on top of him. Or when he’d be alone at night with only his hand to comfort his aching member, that’s what he thought of, men.

One particular man in fact that plagued and haunted his thoughts was a certain raven haired boy he had come to call friend; Zayn.

That man did things to Liam’s brain that had never happened before. He began thinking of life with him, more than just the band and all, no he wanted more. He wanted to kiss him and let the olive skinned man plunder his insides and leave bruises and scratch marks. Liam wanted to marry him and spend the rest of his life with kids and grandkids and long wedded bliss.

But Liam knew this would never happen. Yes, Zayn was more than available and yes he was open to any and all genders-that was a shocking confession one night with all five of them to find out that Zayn was pansexual-but he didn’t love Liam like that. He loved him as a friend and the closest they’d ever come to anything intimate was cuddling and the random drunken snog that was usually perpetuated by Louis or Niall.

So he sliced again.

The blood began to seep out of his wrist like it had done so before leaving crimson rivers that pooled in his palm and left his body shaking with adrenaline and relief. The pale scars that already adorned his delicate wrist were scratched over and over so that it looked as if someone had taken a white pen and scribbled a very messy doodle on his skin. This was Liam’s relief.

And he felt pathetic. He was happy. Very happy in fact. But he truly wasn’t content because he was in love with Zayn and that love was unrequited much to his dismay. So he sliced again thinking of those beautiful hazel eyes and how he’d love to have them hovering over his face. He sliced again imagining his fingers tracing his myriad of tattoos across his arms and torso. Then he sliced again-seven in total-thinking of how soft those lips would be against his and what else those lips could do to his body.

At this point Liam was high off the rush and blood loss. It was his only relief from the onslaught of torturing emotions and waves of feelings he would get when thinking of Zayn. Anytime there was a lingering touch or a less than innocent glance his heart would pick up speed and his palms would sweat and his wrists would itch for that biting sting of metal so he’d excuse himself if he could and find his little black box that held his friends. Those shiny metal friends that only he knew the language of how to speak to them.

He sliced again.

Liam wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted to die since he had so much-or at least everyone would tell him so-to live for. Living your dream and being filthy rich on top of it would make any sane human being happy with their lives but in Liam’s there was something missing. And that was the love of a companion, a companion he desperately craved and lusted after. Then the tears came.

He hated himself for doing this, for being so weak and powerless over a god damn emotion but here he was cutting deeper than he ever had and weeping on his bathroom floor that now was stained with him and his head began to spin. He laid down on the cold tiles and breathed slowly and deeply-in through the nose out through the mouth like Harry had taught him when feeling sick-and sniffled as his blood was pouring out of him.

Then nausea hit and he barely made it to the toilet before retching up anything he had eaten beforehand, which wasn’t much, and he spit and spluttered into the porcelain bowl with tiny whimpers and death moans resting his head against the seat.

“Liam? You alright mate?” Came a familiar Irish accent from behind the door. They all had keys to get into each other’s rooms for safety purposes and Liam then remembered that it was supposed to be a movie night for the boys in Louis and Harry’s room.

Wiping his mouth with his clean hand not stained red he let out a cracking response, “Yeah I’m fine, just a sour stomach.”

“Alright, I’ll get you some water. Come out when you feel better. We’ll be down in Lou’s.” And he walked away not knowing that his friend was bleeding and crying and begging for any kind of release from his feelings. The bathroom looked more like a crime scene than it did a place to clean yourself. His blood had trailed from the sink to the tub then back to the toilet with one or more handprint marring it’s surface as well.

‘At least the bleeding stopped’ Liam thought as he surveyed his mess and groaned knowing he’d have to clean it up-it’s not like housekeeping would be comfortable or silent about it-and he raised himself up on shaky knees and rinsed off his wrist first. The raised red lacerations stared back at him with anger and sympathy. Patting his cuts dry with a towel he then soaked the towel in the shower before getting back on his knees to scrub and polish the tiles free of his blood and the tears came again.

Here he was cleaning up his blood and secrets off the floor and no one was the wiser. How nobody noticed was either a miracle or ignorantly painful, Liam wasn’t sure which, but Liam apparently didn’t seem to be in pain or anything was off with the ‘level headed’ one of the group. He scoffed at his so called title and wiped up the last remnants of red and buried the towel deep in the garbage and set his razor back into his little box to join it’s family.

He opened the bathroom door to see that Niall had in fact left a glass for him on his nightstand and he only let out a watery smile before downing the whole thing, it hurt a bit as his raw stomach was being filled but it did take out the nasty taste in his mouth, and he placed the box of blades back into his bag before looking himself in the mirror. His face was flushed and eyes were glassy but if anyone asked he could say he had been feeling nauseous and thrown up-Niall could attest to that-and wiped his eyes with a heavy breath.

The red lines that criss crossed his wrists couldn’t be explained very well though. Not like anyone would believe he got attacked by a kitchen knife or scratched by a cat-both were implausible due to the fact there was no kitchen utensils or cats-so he grabbed his favorite cuff to place over them. It was soft brown leather and embroidered with his initials, a Christmas gift from his sister, and he hissed slightly feeling the leather drag across his wounds but in all honesty he rather enjoyed it. The pain was a constant reminder that he was worthless and useless and hopelessly in love with someone who couldn’t love him back.

Taking a few steadying breaths he checked his clothes for blood seeing that there was in fact a stain on his jeans so he hastily switched into baggy sweat pants and threw a jumper over for good measure to cover his wrist. Liam padded down the hallway to Louis’ room and knocked tentatively getting a muffled “Come in!” and he walked inside.

Cheers and Niall spouting out “Finally.” greeted Liam and he made his way over to the jumbled limbs of his friends. Niall was up putting a movie into the DVD player-The Boondock Saints to be exact-and made his way back to the floor where a sea of pillows propped up his head, Louis and Harry were cuddled in an armchair, big shocker there, and they were both lost in their own world like they tended to do. And there was Zayn, a vision in pajama bottoms and a beater, it made Liam’s blood flow backwards and groin begin to stiffen, why did he have to be so fucking beautiful?

Zayn gave him an award-winning smile with his arms wide open and by the small gesture Liam could smell him. Fuck. Like spices and smoke and washed out hair gel and dammit if Liam didn’t practically tumble into his arms. No. He couldn’t do that anymore. Yes he loved Zayn. Yes he wanted him more than anything. But no, he couldn’t keep doing this to himself. It gave him false hope that spoke in metal and bloodshed so no he wouldn’t do it.

He simply shook his head and curled up into the other side of the couch as Zayn followed him with his arms outstretched and eyes a little duller than they were before.

“Li? Don’t you wanna cuddle with me?” Zayn pouted out getting the other three boys to stare at him strangely. Liam never refused any type of affection from anyone, especially not Zayn.

“No, I’m not in the mood. I just got sick and I’d rather not.” He mumbled out playing with his leather cuff and pressing it against his skin. The cuts burned and protested but he had to remind himself of why he did this and why he shouldn’t even be near Zayn.

“Are you alright?” Harry’s deep voice came dripping with concern.

“Yeah, just wasn’t feeling dinner that’s all. I’m fine.” And he tried his best at a genuine smile and the three seemed to take it in stride with Niall asking him did he drink the water he set out and replied with a nod as the opening music to the movie came out getting Niall to bounce his hips on the floor-it’s Irish music, of course he did-but Zayn didn’t stop looking at him.

He leaned over and brushed Liam’s sock clad foot tenderly making the boy jump and flinch backwards practically becoming the upholstery of the couch. Zayn’s eyes flashed something like hurt and he brought his hand back a bit too quickly than he normally would have. He quietly asked still leaning in a bit, his scent was making Liam’s head spin and mouth water, “You sure you’re okay Li?”

And the quiet way he spoke, a voice he reserved only for Liam was making his eyes prick with tears again, the bastard. Liam bit his lip and nodded quickly only glancing at Zayn because he couldn’t look him dead in the eye for too long. His wrist would start itching again.

The boy leaned back to his side and left it at that and the five watched the movie with Niall quoting most of it and Harry and Louis snogging quietly in their chair. Liam could see that Zayn would look over at him throughout the movie with a quizzical expression on his face then turn back to watch the movie and about three times it looked as if Zayn was moving to bring his hand around his shoulders or just somehow touch him and Liam’s breath would catch each time and his wrist would burn.

After a second movie was watched Liam feigned being sleepy and bid the others a good night with a small wave and didn’t meet any of their eyes. He cried himself to sleep again that night.

XXXX

It was a week later in another town at another venue and Liam hadn’t cut since that night at the hotel and he was quite proud of himself. The slices on his wrist were now a shiny pink and healing and with long sleeved jumpers and plaid button ups accompanied with his leather cuff they were hidden from view at any given time.

That was until someone saw them.

And it was completely by accident how it happened actually. Liam was more than careful when he was around people, always making sure that his cuff was tied tightly and that the sleeves of his shirts wouldn’t ride up but at a new hotel after a show Liam desperately needed a shower so he took one and this time he was sharing a room with Niall.

Thinking that the blond was over in someone else’s room he didn’t think about walking out in just a towel, in the past it wouldn’t have mattered because they’d all seen each other naked, but this time was different because he wasn’t wearing his cuff. He walked out of the steamy room into the cool air of the shared suite and nonchalantly made his way over to his suitcase. He didn’t notice Niall sitting on the bed or how his wrist was bright pink from the hot water and on full view.

“What the fuck is that?!” Niall bellowed out and like a blur he was in front of Liam grabbing his hand.

“What?” Liam questioned then realized his mistake. Stupid Liam, stupid.

Niall’s hands were in a vice grip on Liam’s arm and he lifted his scarred wrist to his face. The pink lines were vivid and bright and exposed. Shit.

“Liam James Payne. What the fuck is this?” Niall looked at him sternly and didn’t drop his wrist. He pulled it back using his formidable strength-thank god for his weight lifting-and quickly reached for his protecting cuff.

“No. Liam. What is this?” Niall grabbed his arm again and pointed to the multiple healing wounds on his skin. Liam’s head dropped.

“It’s nothing Ni.” He sort of whispered out. He was caught and there was no way to fake something. And no way to lie.

“Nothing my ass. Liam, look at me. Tell me now what’s going on.” Niall had gone full protection mode on him and Liam internally chuckled at how their roles were reversed since usually he was Daddy Directioner.

“Can I at least get dressed first?” Liam let out a small question that sounded weak and childlike. Niall dropped his arm and gave a stern nod before sitting down on the bed and watched him with hawk like eyes as he slipped on his sweat pants and threw on a jumper-his natural instinct to cover the wounds even though it was futile at this point-and walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge like he was ready to bolt.

“Spill. Now.” Niall declared. Liam tried to open his mouth to speak but couldn’t get any words to form. His throat was dry and constricted and his thoughts toppled over themselves as he tried to explain why he had hurt himself. His inner monologue was on hyper drive, ‘You do this because you’re scared and you love Zayn and you’re not worth his time and he’ll never love you and you should just push deeper next time and kill yourself because you’re gay and worthless and nobody loves you.’

“Liam” Niall’s voice broke into soft delicate tones that meant he wasn’t necessarily angry but scared and concerned at this point-who could blame him-“please tell me what’s wrong? Why are you hurting yourself?”

Liam let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding and steadied himself. He was caught. He couldn’t lie. The only thing he could do know was speak the truth.

“Niall, I uh-Ni I’m-I’m-“ Liam stuttered out. Niall reached over and took his hand inbetween his and rubbed a rough thumb across the scars. Liam actually felt sort of relieved that they didn’t disgust him-like they disgusted their owner-and Niall moved his head as if to say ‘go on’.

“Niall, I’m gay.” And Liam felt the weight come off his chest. He hadn’t even said it to himself out loud before. Then he waited. Niall’s thumb stopped moving on his wrist and the tears started coming to sting his eyes.

“That’s all Li? That’s why you’ve been doing this?” Liam looked up to see Niall smiling. Fucking smiling at him. He could only nod in disbelief. Then he was being crushed in a hug that smelled slightly of beer and sweat, that was Niall for you after a show, and he melted into the embrace. Niall kissed his neck and pulled back to look him square in the eye. “Liam, that’s fine love. But why were you doing that?” He pointed to the exposed wrist.

Liam made to cover it up but pale hands stopped him and rubbed them gently. Then Niall did something that really made the tears fall down his cheeks, he lifted the scarred wrist to his lips and kissed them like you would kiss a baby, full of adoration and love and gentle.

“I uh, I was scared.” Liam choked out. At least he wasn’t sobbing, this was one of those cries of alleviation.

Niall put his wrist back down and rubbed his fingers over them again as he began to speak, “Scared of what Li? Us? Come on mate, we’re you’re best friends. You could’ve told us this.”

“Not-not just that. I’m in lo-fuck!” Liam stood up breaking the grip Niall had on his wrist and began pacing back and forth. Hands running through his damp hair and he began to panic. He almost confessed.

“Liam! It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me everything alright? Just-hey look at me-c’mere.” Niall opened his arms up as he stood and pulled him in for another hug that automatically calmed the brown-eyed boy down. “Liam you don’t have to tell me everything but you know you always can. And so what you’re gay. If I remember correctly I’m the only completely straight one in the whole group so I’m the minority here. Just promise me something okay?” He pulled back to look into chocolate brown eyes that were brimming with tears and a little bloodshot.

“Okay.” Liam whispered out.

“Don’t do this again.” He reached for his wrist and rubbed his thumb against the slightly raised lacerations. “I won’t tell anyone okay, it’ll be our secret. But just don’t do this again. We love you Liam and we don’t want to lose you.”

Liam smiled at the sincere words of his band mate and hugged him again promising into his chest that was muffled but heard nonetheless.

“Hey Ni?” Liam asked sweetly pulling back and meeting those blue eyes. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He squeezed his wrist again before turning to shower and Liam felt a whole lot better.

One down. Three to go.

XXXX

Niall had kept his promise and hadn’t blabbed out Liam’s problem-in fact he became mother hen over Liam sometimes-he’d constantly check on him and whenever Liam would seem to be stressed out or fold into himself you could find Niall with an arm around his shoulder or whispering into his ear. It was usually a “you’re okay love” or “I’m here Liam, always here” and Niall Horan was a fucking godsend those days.

They were on a ride to some interview with Harry and Louis bickering back and forth over something stupid and trivial like they always did while Niall was humming to himself and Zayn was playing Fruit Ninja on his phone and when they say that the ‘time is right and you’ll know it’ well, this was it. They were all there and it would be a surprise but also it just felt right to say something. Liam leaned back in his seat and shared with Niall-the two had become practically attached at the hip-Zayn in front of them with Harry and Louis off to their right in the limo.

Liam arched up to get close to Niall’s ear and whispered, “Now.”

Niall only nodded knowing what he meant-the two had talked about it since the confession a few weeks back and when Liam was ready he’d let Niall know-and with an arm wrapping around his shoulder and a supportive squeeze he winked at him.

“Boys.” Liam let out in a loud enough voice to attain awareness but not enough to rouse alarm. The three sets of eyes all looked over to him and he began to fidget and that familiar itch in his wrist came back. He had only slipped once in the weeks since Niall found out, getting such a defeated and hurt look from the Irish boy, but he understood that you couldn’t just completely stop without a relapse or two.

Niall had found him in the bathroom with his box of razors open and three cuts adorning his wrist and shushed him when he began blubbering out an apology. He cleaned Liam up and took him to bed and didn’t let him out of his arms for the entire night and while Liam was fast asleep he snuck back into the bathroom and tossed the razors into the trash chute in the hall of the hotel-he couldn’t believe those still existed-and Liam didn’t ask about it the next morning. He knew what happened.

The familiar hand intertwined with his and he looked to see Niall nod at him and give him a smile.

“Boys, I’ve got something to tell you.” He let out with a stronger voice than he had believed he could muster.

“You’re pregnant.” Louis ever on point with wit.

“Shut up.” Niall deadpanned and Louis actually shut his mouth with a rather disbelieving look at the Irish boy.

“I’m gay.” And Liam waited for the reactions. He thought it didn’t really matter what the reaction would be as long as he felt as good as he did for finally admitting it to his very best friends.

“Fucking a right!” Louis bellowed out and launched himself across the limo knocking the air from Liam’s lungs.

“That’s great mate! Now we can talk about boys and shit with you. Ow ow!” Harry climbed atop the growing pile of boy band members. Liam let out a wheezing “can’t breathe” from under them and the two climbed off him to go snog in the corner saying they should because it was to celebrate Liam’s coming out. They were just horny teenagers really.

Niall bumped his shoulder and let out, “Proud of you man. Knew you could do it.”

That’s when Zayn piped up, “You knew about it?” And his hazel eyes darted back and forth between their clasped hands and their faces.

“Yeah, he told me a while ago. Just waited to tell you lot.” Niall shrugged and dropped his hand to check a text message from his buzzing phone.

Zayn’s face slightly dropped and Liam made his way over to sit next to him. “Hey” he offered lightly, “are you okay? I mean, with this?” Liam gestured vaguely at nothing.

The Bradford lad threw his arm around Liam’s broad shoulder and Liam once again melted into the warm press of his chest and that intoxicating smell that clung to his skin.

“Of course I’m okay with it you twat. I love you Liam and just cause you like cock wouldn’t stop that. We all do except for Niall over there. Just wish you would’ve told me first, I thought we were best mates.” Zayn smiled at him.

“We are best mates. And I love you too.” He snuggled into Zayn a bit more and stayed there for the duration of the ride to wherever they were going. Liam couldn’t be bothered by details or destinations now that he had finally told everyone his secret-well one of them-and he was encompassed by spices and heat and tattoos.

That itch came back to his wrist but he ignored it for the time being. If he couldn’t have Zayn like that at least he could have him like this.

Niall looked over to see how very content and blissful Liam looked in Zayn’s arms and stowed it away in his happy memory bank.

XXXX

Two months later and Liam had been doing better than he ever had been. His latest cuts had faded to join the whitish ones he had before and he confessed to Niall how often and how long he had been doing it getting the Irish boy to actually cry a little saying he wish he’d known so he could help. Liam shushed him and told him it was nobody’s fault but his own and the two proceeded to play a heated game of Mario Kart afterwards.

Once again the boys were in another hotel after a gig and had a few days off in Paris to shop and lounge and much to Niall’s relief, sleep til whenever they wanted to. Louis and Harry were off seeing a movie and painting the town whatever color they felt like-Liam never really understood that expression-Niall was sleeping in their shared bedroom and Liam was with Zayn in his. The after show adrenaline and high was coursing through their veins and somehow Zayn had coerced the soberest of all of them to partake in a rousing game of shots and Never Have I Ever.

Liam was losing horribly because he hadn’t honestly done much in his life that Zayn had so needless to say he was wicked drunk with Zayn right behind him.

“Never have I ever built something.” Zayn slurred out. Liam downed a shot.

“Never have I ever gotten into a fist fight.” Liam countered. Zayn downed a shot.

“Never have I ever snuck a peak at Harry naked.” Zayn retorted. Liam downed a shot.

“Slut! Louis would kill you!” Zayn hollered out with a flashing smile. Liam wiped his mouth and coughed at the burn of liquor, “Oh please yes you have. We all have. Even Niall.”

“Yeah true.” Zayn downed a shot with a lip curl and a nod that yes; he wanted to see what Harry was packing.

“Try again Zee.” Liam poured more clear liquid into the glasses. Bacardi was becoming his new best friend.

“Okay, um. Never have I ever been in love.” Liam didn’t take the shot. He bit his bottom lip and averted his gaze.

“Oh my god you have! Tell me! I never knew about this. I’m hurt.” Zayn faked a pained looked and gave a dramatic gesture to cover his heart with his hand.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Liam muttered into his glass and downed the liquor. This was turning into a rather bad situation. He was well past sober and drunken words are sober thoughts and his mind kept telling him to blurt out “YOU!” each time Zayn would ask who it was.

“Aw Leeyum, don’t be embarrassed. You can tell me. Now who stole your heart?”

Liam’s mind yelled “YOU!”

“Well it obviously wasn’t a girl that’s for sure. Um, was it Andy?”

Liam scoffed. Oh please, he loved Andy but he was too much of a tool to actually be boyfriend/husband material.

“Okay, no then. Harry. Has to be. The curls and the charm and the green eyes. Helps he has a massive cock too.” Zayn chuckled and downed another shot while handing one to Liam. He took it with a less than gratuitous smirk.

“God no. He’s like my little brother. Although he does have a big dick, but still. No.” Liam snickered. Yeah Harry was fit but he was in fact like Liam’s little brother and he was also Louis’. Liam would rather not come between that.

“I know who it is. It’s Niall. The way you two are it’s obvious. Sorry to say this mate but he likes the vajayjay.” Zayn clapped him on the back with a sympathetic twinkle in his eye.

“Oh for fucks sake Zayn, it’s definitely not Niall.”

“Then who was it? Who am I missing?” Zayn looked away to ponder and did the whole ‘thinking man’ thing while stroking his chin. Liam watched as those long fingers with clean nails rubbed through coal black stubble and Liam couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Do you really want to know Zayn?” Liam let the liquor be his courage this time.

“Yes. I’m dying to know.” Zayn giggled and faced him completely on the couch.

Actions speak louder than words and that’s what made Liam crash their lips together. His body weight pressed the slightly disheveled looking boy down into the cushions and he swiped his tongue across Zayn’s bottom lip. He tasted like liquor and smoke and Heaven and those lips were so baby soft and smooth and Liam was kissing him.

Oh fuck.

His eyes sprang open and saw that Zayn’s eyes were wide too. He threw himself off and began spluttering as he scrambled to the door.

“So-sorry. No. Fuck. No. Love you. NO. Fuck.” And he watched as Zayn sat there and saw his mouth moving but couldn’t hear anything over the buzzing in his head and the itching in his wrist. He fucked up.

Liam needed his special friends.

So he bolted out the door and ran into his own room. Niall was dead to the world and he felt awful for betraying the angelic blond who was unaware of his intentions when he got inside the sanctity of the bathroom. He closed the door with a soft click locking it and rushed over to the sink where he saw Niall’s shaver sitting by the side.

His own razors were thrown away months ago and this was his only release and Niall had just so happened to forget about not leaving it out. ‘Sorry Niall’ Liam thought as he broke it under his foot and pulled two shiny blades from it. He shucked off his jumper and threw it to the side and removed his favorite cuff to place on the marble counter top.

He had more or less confessed and admitted to the person he was in love with that he was in love with him. And the way Zayn looked at him. It looked like fear and panic and the opposite of want. He didn’t even move when Liam was kissing him and he didn’t say anything or stop him. Liam fucked up. So he took his friends in his hand and began to cut savagely across his wrist and even switched to do the other side. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

The amount of alcohol he had partaken in made his blood thin and much more than he was accustomed to flowed out of his joints. Much too much blood. Then he felt woozy.

He gripped the sink turning his knuckles white, which wasn’t the best idea because it only opened the gaping cuts more and blood poured like a faucet. Something like muffled voices were somewhere off in the distance then the world got a bit darker and hazy. Then it was gone.

XXXX

Niall was awoken to a bursting through his door and a frantic and rum smelling Zayn rushing through. In his just woken up haze he heard shouting from the Pakistani boy, “Liam! It’s okay! Come out alright! Let’s talk about this!”

Niall groggily got up and asked, “Zayn, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. We were playing Never Have I Ever and I asked if he’d ever been in love and he didn’t drink which meant yes and I asked who and one thing lead to another and he kissed me and said ‘I love you’ before he ran out.” Zayn rushed forward before turning back to the door and banging on it this time, “Liam, come on mate! Open the door!”

Niall was a little floored by the turn of events and his sleep riddled brain took a second or two to process the whole situation then something clicked in his head.

When Niall had found out about Liam cutting there was something else he was going to say.

“Not-not just that. I’m in lo-fuck!”

Liam was going to say “love”; he was in love with someone.

Then when he refused to cuddle with Zayn that night which was too odd.

Then after he came out to the boys and the look on his face when Zayn had his arm around him.

And now he had told Zayn-physically anyway-that he was in love with him.

Fuck.

Liam was in love with Zayn the whole time and Niall noticed but he never connected the dots until now. He wasn’t too worried though, Niall had gotten rid of the razors ages ago and Liam was doing so well without cutting.

But Liam was in the bathroom and there was no noise. Niall rubbed his face and felt no stubble, he was all smooth and shaved… smooth and shaved. He shaved. Shaved with a razor. Razor left by the sink. Oh for god sakes Niall!

He sprung from the bed chanting “no no no” over and over.

Pushing Zayn out of the way he started to yell, “Liam! Liam come on love don’t do what I think you’re doing! It’s okay! Zayn’s okay with it, aren’t you Zayn?” He turned to see him nod quickly. Niall slapped him and pointed to the door.

“Liam it’s alright! I love you too, it’s okay! Come out!” He leaned over to ask Niall what he meant about what Liam could be doing. Niall brushed him off; it wasn’t his secret to tell. The blond jiggled the handle and-of fucking course Payne-it was locked.

“Liam, I love you too. I’m glad you kissed me. Please, it’s alright.” Zayn said with his forehead pressed to the door. Niall looked over to see Zayn breathing heavy and clenching his eyes with one hand against the door.

“You do?” He asked incredulously. Sometimes he really hated his band mates.

“Who wouldn’t love him?” Zayn let out a weak smile. Niall turned his attention back to the matter at hand. There was a drunk, emotionally distraught, panicking Liam with access to harm himself. Never a good combination.

“You hear that Li? He loves you right back now come out before-“ there was a heavy thud on the other side of the door that sounded like a someone falling.

Fuck.

“NO! Liam come on! Please open the door!” Niall became frantic and panic seared his skin and tears sprung forth. This couldn’t be happening. The one thing that could have stopped Liam from doing this all along was finally taking place and he was on the other side doing or done who knows what.

“What’s he doing Ni?” Zayn pondered to him seeing his panicked state and not understanding why.

“Don’t ask questions just help me break it down!” And he began slamming his shoulder into the door. Zayn only looked on with confusion.

“NOW ZAYN!” Niall bellowed out with sobs laced through them.

With each slam he would grunt “I’m coming Liam, I’m coming” and Zayn finally was pulled from his state of wonder to join his friend in their motions of slamming their bodies into the locked door. It took eight conjoined heaves to break the jam of the door and the two fumbled in tripping over each other.

The sight on the floor made Zayn gasp with his hand shooting to his mouth and Niall running to lift up Liam’s body; cold and white and blood pooled around him. He began crying rocking his body back and forth, “Call the fucking ambulance!” he administered to Zayn and the raven-haired boy rushed from the room to the hotel phone.

Niall could hear his rabid syllables rushing over the receiver as he applied pressure to Liam’s wrist and saw his lips were blue and skin was deathly pale. “Liam come on mate, he loves you. We’re gonna be alright, wake up. Wake up!”

XXXX

Liam woke up two days later in the hospital. His mouth was chapped and his breath could probably be visible with how rank it was and his wrists were sore and bandaged tightly so that he could barely move his hands. He couldn’t remember much other than the last night in the hotel and he had kissed Zayn then the rest was a blur of breaking a plastic razor and lots and lots of red.

He turned to see Zayn asleep with his head resting on the mattress and his fingers linked with Liam’s. The window in the corner of the room showed that it was either nighttime or early morning due to the pitch-blackness of the sky and only a small lamp on his bedside table illuminated the room. The soft snores of Zayn along with the beeping of the heart monitor were the only sounds in the creepily quiet area.

Liam deduced in his head that he had cut a little too far but then some memories came back to him, distant voices that he had heard before he collapsed onto the floor. They sounded like Zayn and Niall but in his drunken and blood riddled haze didn’t seem to register. But he had heard them.

“Liam, I love you too. I’m glad you kissed me.” That was Zayn.

Zayn loved him. And he had almost offed himself-good going jackass-and his heart rate increased making the machine near his head beep a bit faster. It made Zayn stir and mutter out a “bugger off” and squeeze Liam’s hand a bit tighter, it was numb but if Zayn were to hold it he’d deal with a bit of numbness. He squeezed back as hard as he could getting Zayn to stir again then lift his head slightly before-Liam guessed-he realized where he was and his head shot up with saucer sized eyes and looked to Liam’s face.

His chapped lips hurt a bit and cracked slightly as he smiled at him.

“Liam” Zayn whispered out and attacked him with a crushing embrace and peppered his face with kisses.

“Hi Zayn.” Liam croaked out, his singing voice was going to be rusty for a little while.

Then he felt something wet dropping on his face. Zayn was crying above him.

“Stupid boy. Stupid stupid boy. I love you, love you so much you stupid boy.” Zayn breathed out with emotion and satisfaction on his tongue. Then his tongue was being prodded against Liam’s, he tasted like mint and cigarettes and Liam had never tasted anything so perfect in his life. They kissed hard and Zayn nibbled on the bottom lip of Liam and the boy in bed brought his arms to loop around his neck-not too easily since he had a painful IV in his elbow- and ran his hands through dark hair that was soft like its owner.

They pulled away panting and Zayn held a smile on his face that could move mountains, “Liam Payne you ever do something like that again I’ll kill you myself. Why didn’t you tell me you loved me?”

He rubbed one thumb across Liam’s cheek and the boy leaned into the touch getting Zayn to smile again. The time to spill the beans had come.

“I was scared Zee. You’re you and I’m me and yeah…” Liam trailed off. Zayn linked their fingers again as he settled in the chair that had been his throne for the past couple of days.

“I’m sorry Liam.” Zayn let out looking down.

“For what?” Liam asked quickly. If anything Liam should and was the sorry one. Not only had he almost killed himself but also he had put Zayn and Niall and the entire band through that. Not to mention the PR team and press were probably shitting a brick at this point.

“That I never said anything. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself and cause you to not be my friend anymore if I told you so I was okay just being that; friends. But I do love you Liam and I have for a long time. And you were hurting yourself thinking I didn’t.” Liam tried to speak but Zayn held up his hand to stop him and continued, “Niall told me everything and I did sock him in the arm for not telling us about your problem. Liam I tried to tell you I loved you back after you kissed me that night but you ran and I was too stunned to follow right after you. I hate that I didn’t cause then maybe you wouldn’t have tried to” audibly gulping, “kill yourself.” And another tear rolled down his immaculate cheekbone.

Liam sighed and tightened his grip on Zayn’s hand, “Zee, I didn’t try to kill myself. I was just trying to cut and I guess I got carried away.”

Zayn looked up and leaned in to kiss him again but this time it was chaste and sweet and the epitome of gentle.

“Well no more of that.” He smirked between their lips and kissed him again.

He was released from the hospital and suicide watch three days later and received more than a few angry phone calls from management but simply brushed them off whenever Zayn would cuddle up to him in bed or wherever they could honestly. Niall had apologized to everyone including Liam that he didn’t say anything but didn’t think things would get that far getting a hug in return from Liam telling him to forget about it.

Liam confessed and admitted to everything getting Niall to start sobbing again-he truly felt guilty for the whole thing-and stunning Louis and Harry into silence with Zayn holding his hand the entire time. He told them how he began to cut and how far deep he was in love with Zayn and that night was a mistake and he didn’t mean to actually kill himself. They all hugged him afterwards and curled into each other to watch the sappiest movies anyone could stand and it wasn’t brought up again.

The next few months were sketchy with mainly Louis and Harry walking around on eggshells around Liam and asking every five minutes if he was alright. One day Liam finally snapped-well snapped as Liam could, he was not scary in the slightest, “Guys I’m fine! I’m still me I just had a problem. Please don’t make me feel any more different and defective than I already do okay?”

The two nodded and treated him like they used to with Louis cracking jokes and Harry inviting him everywhere and Zayn was there saying he wasn’t defective but perfect in every way possible. Every night he’d kiss those reminders of that night on his wrists that had to constantly be covered by makeup on stage and in photo ops-management had said that Liam had come down with a severe case of pneumonia when he was admitted to the hospital and paid a large sum of money to keep everyone involved quiet-and Zayn would whisper “I love you” over and over each time.

Liam truly believed it now. He had Zayn. He had the most perfect human being in existence and that itch in his skin was finally conquered. No one ever brought up that night ever again or what had happened the weeks afterwards out of respect for Liam and his wishes and the five boys lived their lives together making music and living their dream.

Seven years later at their wedding Liam had placed a very specific line into his vows that only he, his soon to be husband, and three other men in attendance would truly understand.

“Love can make you bleed, it can cut deep inside and leave scars, some more visible than others. But love can also mend and heal and make those scars worth it in the end. And love is what I have.”


End file.
